Interesting Creatures
by Mad Maudlin
Summary: Thanks to his brother, Bill has a little problem. Or five. Possibly six. Written for hpsynergy ficathon with bogfrog


"Interesting Creatures"

by Mad Maudlin

"Um...Bill?"

"Yeah, Charlie?"

"D'you have a second?"

Bill looked up from his Arithmancy textbook to eye his brother skeptically. Charlie was standing in the doorway of the sixth years' dormitory, shifting from foot to foot in a very un-Charlie-like manner and gnawing his lower lip. "What'd you do now?" he asked automatically.

"I haven't even said anything yet! And nothing!"

"Then why're you nervous?"

"I'm not nervous." Charlie glanced out onto the stairs, then quietly shut the dormitory door. "I'm just, er...I'm concerned. About, y'know, stuff. That I'm not actually personally involved in."

This was getting better and better. Bill folded his arms and leaned back on the bed, bracing himself for the worst. "So who is personally involved, and why is it any concern of yours?"

Charlie looked at the floor and mumbled something.

"I didn't catch that."

"...it's Hagrid."

"Charlie!" Bill moaned. "I thought I told you not to hang around him so much this term!"

"What's wrong with him?" Charlie said, instantly defensive

Bill sighed. "Nothing, Char, but you spend way too much time chasing him around the forest when you ought to be working on real classes."

"Care of Magical Creatures is a class!"

"That you take with Kettleburn, not the groundskeeper!"

"Kettleburn is boring," Charlie said flatly. "He never shows us any interesting creatures."

"Didja stop to think that maybe an interesting creature is responsible for Kettleburn's face?" Bill muttered. He was glad that Charlie had a favorite subject, really he was; in fact, he was proud of how quickly Charlie had outstripped the rest of his class. And truthfully, he should probably be glad that Charlie had someone who shared his passion for animals, especially an adult who could, in theory, supervise him.

It was just his luck that Hagrid and Charlie shared a rather selective definition of "interesting creature."

Charlie scowled at him and moved to open the door. "If you're going to be a git about it, I'll find someone else to help me."

"No, don't," Bill said quickly. "I didn't mean to insult Hagrid. What's the matter with him?"

Charlie dithered near the door for another few minutes. "You've got to promise to keep it a secret."

Oh, good lord, it was that bad? "You know I can't do that, Charlie, I'm a prefect."

"I don't want to get Hagrid into trouble."

"And what sort of trouble would you be getting Hagrid into?"

Charlie didn't say a word, but he gave Bill a look that meant _you can't honestly think I'm that dumb._

"All right," Bill finally said, in spite of his own misgivings. "How's this: I promise, on my honor as a Weasley, to keep this a secret unless I think that something's going on that'll be a danger to the school. How's that?"

"We're not endangering the school!"

"I thought you said you weren't involved?"

Charlie blushed to his hairline and glared. "D'you want to help or not?"

"Yes, I want to help." Because if Charlie was going to get himself expelled, Bill'd be damned if he weren't right there behind him, prefect's badge or not. "But if you've got something really dangerous going on, we've got to tell someone, all right?"

"All right," Charlie said reluctantly. "But it's not dangerous at all."

"It'll just get Hagrid into trouble."

"Well—I mean, it's not exactly his fault—but it's not—not really, anyway—" Charlie sighed. "Look, can I just show you?"

"Maybe you'd better." Although Charlie's track record with showing Bill anything was almost as bad as the twins', just without the malicious streak—he hadn't forgotten the incident with the salamanders.

"Okay." Charlie opened the door, then paused. "You might want to bring a cloak."

"Whatever you're showing me is out on the grounds?"

"...sort of."

Bill marked his page in his Arithmancy book and took a deep breath. That sort of answer never boded well.

--/--

"We're not supposed to be in here."

"Well, he can't hide them in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, can he?"

Bill ducked under a branch, wishing death upon certain younger brothers even as he wondered what "they" were. "You realize how much trouble you should be in just for standing here, don't you?"

"You wouldn't put me in detention."

"You want to bet?"

"Mum would have a Kneazle."

"I could just write and tell her you've been skiving off homework instead."

Charlie froze for a moment. "Don't even joke about that."

Bill punched his shoulder. "Don't worry, I like your head attached the way it is. How much farther in?"

"Not too much further. I think."

"You've got a way of inspiring confidence in a bloke, Charlie, you know that?"

"Shut up."

The Forbidden Forest was glazed with a late-autumn frost, and a crunchy layer of dead leaves littered the ground. Bill could've sworn he could see movement from the corners of his eyes every so often, but the only sounds he could hear were coming from himself and his brother. There wasn't even a breeze to stir the treetops, and the pewtery clouds taunted him with the slightest hint of snow. He paused to chafe his hands a bit and hoped like hell that Charlie actually knew what he was doing.

A series of booming barks and an unearthly screech rent the icy air, and Bill jumped and reached for his wand. Charlie, however, perked up slightly. "That's Fang, c'mon—we're nearly there."

"How d'you know it's Fang?" Bill asked, but still hastened to keep up with Charlie as they crunched over the uneven forest floor. "And what was that yowling noise?"

"I just know, all right? And you'll see it in a minute."

The ground rose slightly, then suddenly plunged, and Charlie scrambled over a deadfall calling Hagrid's name. Bill, being taller, heavier, and not nearly so confident, took his time clambering over the creaking old limbs, in case they gave way underneath him. He only half-listened to the conversation on the other side of the heap.

"Charlie!" Hagrid groaned, over the sound of Fang yipping and whining his own greeting. "Yeh shouldn'a come this time o' the day! What if yeh were seen?"

"I wanted to, look, I brought—I mean I found—er—" Charlie took a deep breath. "ItoldBillandhesaidthathe'dhelp."

"Bill?" Hagrid sounded far too incredulous about that for Bill's liking. "But he's a prefect! He can'—he'll lose his badge for this!"

"He promised not to tell!"

Bill dropped over the deadfall, which turned out to be blocking off a deep roundish depression in the chilly earth, like the frozen-over footprint of a giant. "Yeah, I did," he said, "but only as long as you weren't doing anything—_what the hell are those things?"_

Hagrid was crouched on the opposite side of the depression, taking up almost half the space, and at his feet were a tangle of what looked at first glance like large, tawny kittens. It took a second glance to appreciate their small wings, covered in downy feathers too frail for flight, and a third to notice the armored tails that curled over their backs and ended with tiny stings. Bill was so taken in by this mishmash of traits he nearly managed to overlook the creatures' heads: under dark or golden manes, each "kitten" had a face that eerily resembled a human toddler's.

Charlie cleared his throat and forced a cheery smile. "We've been calling them sphincticores."

"...what?"

"Well," he said, "it didn't seem, y'know, polite to call them _manxes..._"

Bill braced himself against the deadfall and watched the...whatever they were calleds...tumble and play. "Are you saying," he said slowly, "that these...thingies...are some kind of, of sphinx-manticore crossbreed?"

Hagrid shrugged his massive shoulders. "Well, tha's about what we reckon...oi, you! Stop that! Stop that, now!" He swatted at a sphincticore kitten, which had pinned one of its...brothers? (Bill was not going to stop and ask how to sex a monster baby, no he was not) to the ground with tiny claws that looked needle-sharp. The top kitten tried clumsily to sting Hagrid's huge hand, and the one on the ground growled. It was an eerie sound, high and almost human; it also showed off a surprisingly good set of fangs, for something so small. Well, if "small" meant nearly as big as Fang, and clearly with more room to grow...

"How," was the first thing Bill managed to say clearly.

Charlie blinked at him. "I reckon, when a sphinx and a manticore love each other very much..."

"That's not—I mean—where did you two get these?"

"Bought the eggs off a bloke at the Hog's Head," Hagrid said with a distinct note of pride under the anxiety. "Din' know what they was until they hatched, o' course, or I wouldn'a...that is, I woulda turned him in, y'know, for traffickin'. In things."

Bill wondered why the groundkeeper didn't seem all that sincere. "You bought monster eggs off a man in a pub?"

"They're not monsters," Charlie said firmly. "They're interesting."

"An' cute," Hagrid added.

Bill sat down.

"Besides," Charlie said, with a glance at Hagrid as if even he wouldn't go quite so far as to call the snarling little creatures cute, "nobody's every cross-bred creatures like this before. Me and Hagrid could be famous."

"Yeah, after you get out of Azkaban!" Both Charlie and Hagrid went pale, and Bill blinked at them. "Don't you—come on, Hagrid, you had to realize—these things break the Ban on Experimental Breeding!"

"But we didn't actually breed them!" Charlie said. "We just—it's not Hagrid's fault, he didn't know what he was buying! It was that bloke in the pub!"

Hagrid was looking guilty now, in addition to anxious and scared. "Yeah," he said, "yeah, the bloke in the pub..."

"Do you _know_ the bloke in the pub?" Bill asked. When Hagrid just looked vaguely ill, he sighed buried his face in his hands. "Hagrid, you have to get rid of these things."

Both Hagrid and Charlie shouted "No!" at the same time, and Charlie leapt to his feet with his fists clenched. "We can't get rid of them!" he cried. "You promised you'd help!"

"Help what?" Bill demanded. "Litter-train them? Charlie, what if you get caught out here? What if you get hurt—either of you?" He looked at Hagrid. "What d'you feed these things, anyway?"

"We got meat in the budget for the school thestrals," Hagrid said. "These little ones don't eat much."

_For now,_ Bill thought grimly, as one of the kittens pounced playfully on Fang and knocked the boarhound clean off his feet. He counted five—no, six—maybe just five—a _lot_ of hungry mouths to feed. "Hagrid," he said, changing tactics, "sphinxes and manticores—they're from warm climates, aren't they? It's nearly winter."

"That's why we wanted your help," Charlie said. "We're going to build them a pen."

"A pen...?"

"Well, we can' let 'em _freeze,_ they're only babies," Hagrid said, as if the point ought to be obvious.

Bill climbed to his feet and paced the crispy grass; one of the kittens swiped at his cloak hem. He regretted ever being glad that Charlie and Hagrid got along so well...there had to be a way to make them see reason...he watched two sphincticores bat at each other's faces and make wide, slow jabs with their poisoned tails. And these things would be able to _fly_ soon...he had a sudden horrible vision of massive sphincticores swooping down on students as they strolled the grounds, perhaps carrying off some of the smaller ones...

"Charlie," Bill said slowly, "I'm really, really sorry."

Hagrid blinked, but Charlie went red in the face and shoved aside the kitten he'd been playing with. "You promised," he said. "You promised me—"

"I promised not to tell unless it was a danger to the school," Bill said quickly. The look of enraged betrayal on Charlie's face hurt, dammit, and he struggled for the words to explain himself. "Charlie, sphinxes and manticores are really savage creatures, you know that as well as I do. What are you going to do when these things get bigger and start attacking people?"

"They wouldn' do that!" Hagrid protested frantically. "Look at 'em, Bill, they're sweet—look—" He scooped up a kitten and thrust it into Bill's face; it wriggled and flapped its fluffy wings, making garbled noises that sounded like a mix between baby babbling and little growls. Then it looked Bill full in the face for a moment with its great golden eyes, sniffed him once or twice, and licked the very tip of his nose with its sandpaper tongue.

Bill tentatively reached up to scratch it between the ears. It nearly took his finger off.

"Er," Hagrid said. "They do that, mind...jus' playin', y'know."

"Maybe Bill's right," Charlie said softly. He was petting another of the kittens, which had rolled over onto its back and seemed to be cooing, or perhaps purring. "I mean, they are getting a bit big to handle...and if they did hurt somebody—"

"They won' hurt nobody!" Hagrid said gruffly (as the kitten he had just dropped tried to sting his ankle through his boot). "I've trained up creatures a sight more vicious than these, an' they do just fine on their own out here in the Forest."

A stroke of genius suddenly occurred to Bill. "What about the other creatures in the forest, though?" he asked. "What about the unicorns and the centaurs and the thestrals? The sphincticores might be a nuisance, might even hurt them—"

"The centaurs are more likely to hurt the sphincticores," Charlie said with his brow furrowed.

"And you've got duties up a the castle to take care of," Bill said cajolingly, "and Charlie and I have classes—the sphincticores deserve someone who can give them full-time attention."

Hagrid snorted. "An' who would that be? The Ministry? They got it in fer interestin' creatures, the Ministry, they'd probably want to put 'em down...and they're only babies..."

Bill looked helplessly at Charlie; they were so close! Charlie frowned for a moment, then licked his lips. "What about Professor Kettleburn?" he asked tentatively. "He's always going on about all the people he knows all over the world...maybe he can find someone to take them in?"

Hagrid seemed to think this over for a minute, while Bill held his breath and a sphincticore kitten gnawed on the toe of Hagrid's boot. "Kettleburn's a good fellah," Hagrid said slowly, "an' he knows a thing or two about handlin' animals...but if I tell him, I'll...I'll hafta tell Professor Dumbledore."

The very thought seemed to fill Hagrid with dread, which surprised Bill somewhat; he'd always thought the headmaster favored Hagrid very highly. "Just tell them the truth," he advised. "They can't fault you for buying...er...what was it you thought you were buying?"

"He's a great man, Dumbledore," Hagrid said as if Bill hadn't spoken. "Don' like ter let a great man like him down."

Charlie reached up and managed to pat Hagrid's hand, or at least the better part of two fingers. "I'm sure he'll understand," he said bracingly.

"Yeah," Bill added, with what he hoped was a bracing grip on the elbow. "If it was just a mistake—I mean, _since _it was," he amended quickly when Charlie gave him a dirty look, "you didn't really break any laws..."

"And they are awfully cute," Charlie said quickly.

Bill stared at him.

Charlie gave him that dirty look again.

"Yeah," Bill managed to cough out. "Real cute."

Hagrid nodded heavily and sighed. "All righ'...I s'pose I'll tell them in the mornin'..." And then, without warning, he grabbed both Weasley brothers tight around the waist and pulled them into a hug tight enough to make Bill light-headed. "I'm gonna miss 'em!" Hagrid wailed, while Fang cowered. Bill would've patted Hagrid's back if he had been capable of moving his arms; Charlie made the effort, though Hagrid didn't seem to notice.

"Hagrid," Bill wheezed with what little breath he could draw, "you...you don't want to be crying in front of the babies..."

He wasn't sure he was audible over Hagrid's sobbing, but after a moment the huge arm pinning him suddenly released, which nearly sent him tumbling to the forest floor. Hagrid fumbled for his handkerchief as he sniffled. "Ye're right," he blubbered, "wouldn'...wouldn' wanna upset 'em...set a bad example..."

"There's a good man," Bill said. Charlie patted Hagrid's great arm again, as the groundskeeper blew his nose so loudly that birds erupted from trees all around them. "They'll be happier with...with someone who can, y'know, give them all the attention they need."

"They'll be warmer," Charlie said.

"They'll be well-fed..."

"And they'll be safer."

_And so will we,_ Bill thought, but didn't voice it.

Hagrid snuffled a bit and sighed. "Yeah, I reckon you're right," he said weakly. "They'll—they'll be goin' ter a better—eh?"

One of the kittens had slunk forward, its scorpion tail dropping between its legs. It rested one paw on Hagrid's knee, looked him in the eye, and with startling clarity, said, "Mama."

Hagrid started bawling again.

--/--

Bill watched from the window of Gryffindor Tower as Hagrid, Dumbledore and Kettleburn made their way across the snowy grounds and into the forest. Charlie, flushed and shivering and still in his Quidditch kit, threw himself into the next nearest chair. "Whatcha looking at?"

"Hagrid. Good practice?"

"Eh." Charlie peered through the frosty window for a second, then shrugged. "Kettleburn told me there's a research facility in the Aegean that's going to take the—the kitties."

"Good on them." Bill added a few sentences to his Charms paper and looked out again; the grounds were empty again. "Still mad at me?"

Charlie seemed to consider the question, then shrugged again. "I reckon you might've been right about them being dangerous," he said.

"Thanks."

"But I still think they're interesting."

Bill snorted as he reinked his quill. He'd have been concerned if Charlie had answered any other way. "What did Kettleburn say about them?"

"Oh, er...he doesn't know I know, actually." Bill looked up, and Charlie studied the icy filigree on the glass. "Hagrid didn't mention that I'd been, you know, helping. Didn't want to get me in trouble."

"Good on Hagrid," Bill said. "But then why did Kettleburn—?"

"I told him I heard a rumor," Charlie said with a grin, "and he said it was true and explained about the facility, and then he said I shouldn't be haring after savage monsters like that if I didn't want to end up looking like him."

Bill smiled, picturing the scarred old man and his scratchy voice. "And what did you say?"

Charlie slumped in his chair and glanced over, not at the window, but at the roaring yellow fire. "I just asked if had any more books on dragons."


End file.
